The Fullness of Quiet (5 page)

“Look what I’ve been doing, Jocelyn.” I came round the table and looked at her colorful collage. She’d been sticking pictures of a selection of toys on a piece of paper. I kept an eye on Joshua with Daddy, just to make sure he was okay but I couldn’t help compare the way they’d both signed my name. Helen had been doing it for years but for some reason Joshua’s seemed more fluid. As if he’d been practicing and practicing until he’d got the movement of it perfect.

“It’s very good,” I told Helen. “Is it a mixture of all your favorite things?” She nodded, excited that I’d understood without need of an explanation.

It didn’t take me long to help Daddy finish cooking dinner. Helen helped to lay the table and I could see Joshua feeling out of place with nothing to do. I looked up and smiled at him when I could and tried to engage conversation but it was difficult when I needed my hands for the cooking and I knew Joshua wouldn’t start the conversation on his own.

I caught Helen’s eye and glanced over at Joshua who was looking at the table. She smiled at me and went over to sit by him. I watched her chat to him. Not about anything in particular but I could see that it instantly took his mind off feeling out of place.

Dinner was pleasant enough. We all sat around the table and occasionally talked. Daddy and Helen would rarely speak to each other when at the table because Daddy insisted that it was rude to me and so if they had anything to say, they would sign it and that way all members of the family would feel included in the meal. Joshua was amazed by this and I could see him gradually feeling more and more comfortable.

After dinner he even joined Daddy in the living room to watch the motorbikes whilst me and Helen cleared away the table. I smiled to myself thinking about how well he fitted into my life at home.

When it was time for Joshua to leave, I showed him to the door and hugged him on the porch. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and said that I would see him in class the next day. He nodded and smiled at me, lingering on the doorstep.

“Thank you for inviting me over. It was so nice meeting your Dad. He is really nice. And your sister is so sweet.” He never asked about Mum. Not then and not at any point beforehand. I didn’t know why but it always aroused my interest that he didn’t ever ask about my family. I would have thought it was one of the first things to talk about but seeing as though he never asked about mine, I never asked about his. This seemed to suit him fine and so I didn’t press the matter further.

“Goodnight, Jocelyn,” he signed and took my hand in his. My heart started to beat faster. We stood there for a minute or two before he finally released my hand, turned and left. I closed the door behind me and could still feel the hard beats of my heart in my chest. I let out a deep breath and took Helen up to bed.

When I came back downstairs, Daddy was reading a book. He put the book down and asked me what me and Joshua had been doing that afternoon. I told him about the tree house. He smiled at me.

“I remember when your Mum and I built that for you.” I nodded. “You are a little old to be playing there aren’t you?” I nodded again.

“Joshua was feeling a bit down so I was trying to cheer him up.”

“And I bet it worked, didn’t it?” I nodded. “Of course it did, my little angel.” He pushed himself up out of his chair and kissed me on the top of my head. Daddy wasn’t old but since Mum had died, I’d seen him grow twice his age. It was sad that this was to be his fate. Unable to remarry because he still loved and mourned his dead wife and was burdened with two daughters, one of whom was disabled. It must have been really hard for him. I understood his struggle but there was nothing I could do to help.

“Goodnight, Daddy.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek and made my way to my bedroom, thinking of a time when our family was complete.

Chapter 7

Joshua often came for dinner after that. I think he liked being in an atmosphere where he felt welcomed. We always included him in conversation and we even got a few board games out sometimes. We’d play for at least an hour before he would have to leave. That was always the worst part of the day. I hated it. We would both linger on the porch for as long as possible but the inevitable would finally happen.

I’d noticed that over the time I’d spent with him, his hand fluidity hadn’t improved much. He was still jerky and hesitated a lot. I put this down mainly to his inexperience with the language. I got the impression that he didn’t speak much at home and I had no idea why. But my theory was that his family either didn’t know how to or were very bad at signing and he had eventually just given up, deciding he preferred a life of silence than one of frustration.

Over the weeks, when it was warm enough, we would sit in the same patch of grass in the field outside my house. We’d spent so much time there that the grass had flattened itself down into a soft bed beneath us.

We were sat there with our legs crossed, facing each other. The apprehension on Joshua’s face was apparent but I tried to make him feel at ease.

“Hello, what is your name?” I signed to him. He watched my hand movements intently and then copied me. I asked him to do it again. He did so, obediently. I took his hands and positioned them carefully and slowly showed him the movement that was as neat and accurate as could be. He tried to mimic what I’d shown him and managed it pretty well. I smiled at him and moved on to another phrase.

We sat like this for several hours. I started with the simplest of phrases and had him copy and then I did the same with more complicated sentences. Then we had conversations using those phrases and I made him practice each and every one until they were as perfect as he could get them.

I remembered teaching Helen to sign in a similar way and she’d been an attentive student, willing to learn, but Joshua’s intensity was not only from his thirst for knowledge but came from somewhere that I didn’t understand. It felt like he was not just focusing on my hands and their movements but my whole being sat there before him.

We would repeat this routine every day. It lasted a week before I felt that he was good enough to no longer need my help. He was so grateful. He said that everyone had noticed him getting better and were thoroughly impressed but he refused to claim any of the glory himself and said it was all down to my dedication. I blushed when he told me. I couldn’t help but secretly admit how proud I was of him.

“Why did you help my signing?” he asked me one afternoon. I looked away and shrugged.

“You were so bad, I had to.” I nudged him and winked. He laughed. It was so strange seeing him laugh. I wanted to be able to hear it so much and it made me sad to think that I was the only person that could make him laugh but I wasn’t even able to hear it. I lay back in the soft grass and looked up at the sky. It hadn’t rained in a while and clouds were beginning to form in the skies. They were still white and fluffy and hadn’t yet become grey and stormy. He lay back with me so he could see what had caught my eye.

“What are you looking at? They’re just clouds,” he signed. The fluidity of his movements was perfect. Understanding him was easy.

“No they’re not,” I replied. “Clouds are important. They balance the life of the crops for the farmers, the flowers for the florists and water for the animals. Any slight disruption causes so much damage to so many animals and living things, including us. Look up at them and focus your attention on them. See the way they move. They’re so graceful. They change and shift all the time, just like the weather. They’re amazing.”

Joshua propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me.

“What?” I asked. He just smiled at me. The gentlest smile I had ever seen on his face. It reached up into his eyes and made them twinkle. I could see right into his being and everything that I saw was pure and trusting. He was opening himself to me. The doors that were always fastened shut for the rest of the world were open for me, and for me alone.

I reached my hand up to touch his face and traced my fingers along the strong line of his jawbone. His skin was soft and smooth. I let my fingers fall to his lips and I let them stay there for a moment before finally pulling them away. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. My breathing getting heavier. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. He kept his lips there for a moment. Allowing them to linger. Allowing the precious touch to be savored. He moved his lips down my face, letting them brush along my cheekbone before he gently kissed my nose.

I moved my hand up to rest on his arm that was poised over me to hold him up. My whole body tingled with anticipation. He moved his lips until they were hovering over mine. I looked into his deep blue eyes and had never felt anything like that in all my life. It was as if I was complete. I had found someone who I could trust, I could teach, I could share with, I could stay with. He pressed his lips down onto mine and I felt my hand move to his face. I cupped his cheek in my hand and wished that I could be in that moment forever.

After an eternity he pulled away from me. There was a different kind of sparkle in his eye when he looked at me now. Something more precious.

We lay looking up at the clouds for some time after that. We painted pictures from the white apparitions in front of us and made up stories as we went. The sun descended from behind the high clouds and lit up the sky in an array of pinks, blues and oranges. I pointed to the colors and drew their boundaries in the air with my fingers. I talked about the blending of colors.

“Do you draw?” he asked me. I nodded.

“Not very well though. I just enjoy it.” We went back to my house so I could get my sketchpad and we sat on the porch so I could draw the sunset. Joshua sat silently next to me. Looking from the scene before me to the depiction on the paper. I felt nervous to begin with but as soon as I started sketching I felt myself relax into it and I soon forgot completely about everything. When I had finished, I held it up to compare it to the real thing. Joshua applauded me and smiled.

“It isn’t finished yet,” I signed.

“Why isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.” I gave him a smile and Helen came out to fetch us in for dinner.

After Joshua had left for the evening, I brought my sketch into the living room and settled myself down in the corner. I had a small easel that was kept down by the sofa because it was the best room in the house to paint in. It had the freshest sunlight throughout the day and when it wasn’t sunny, the lamp behind the sofa served as a perfect replacement.

“What are you painting?” asked Daddy as I was setting up. I took the sketch over to show him and he admired it for a few minutes before handing it back. “Very nice.”

I sat contentedly painting for most of the evening. Helen came over several times, interested in what I was doing. She would sit by me, silently for several minutes and then move away to do something else. Half an hour later she would come back and sit with me again, curious to see how my piece of art had progressed.

Once I’d finished I took the piece of paper and laid it out on the oak dining table. I let Daddy know where I’d put it so he wouldn’t accidentally ruin it and took Helen up to bed.

“Can I have a story, please?” she asked me, once she’d snuggled down under her covers.

“Yes.” I smiled and sat for a minute, collecting my thoughts. “Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess and she lived in a big castle with her widowed father. The King was very sad because he was all alone in his castle. His blue moods often affected his poor daughter and he knew that she would never find a suitor that way.

“One night, the King had a dream and in the dream, his dead wife had spoken to him. She told him that the only way to find a suitable husband for his daughter was to hold a tournament. So when the Princess was eighteen, her father held a tournament for all eligible men in the kingdom and the winner would be given his daughter’s hand in marriage.

“The tournament began and Knights from near and far all fought viciously against each other in the vain hope to win the fair Princess. One boy was deeply upset by this. He was a servant boy in the castle and had played with the Princess as a child. As they had grown up and grown apart, the boy had found himself in love with the beautiful Princess but he had never been able to tell her.

“He so badly wanted to declare himself but he was no Knight. Then an idea struck him. He ran to the armory and polished up all the spare pieces of armor he could find. They were a little too big. The young boy trotted out into the tournament to see how he would fare against the other Knights.

“The Princess heard about what the servant boy had done and ordered that the tournament be stopped immediately. In the moment when she was told where he was, she felt a sudden unhappiness at the thought of him being hurt and knew from that moment on that she loved him. The servant boy and the Princess got married that same day and they lived in the palace with King. They all lived happily ever after.”

Helen smiled at me and closed her eyes. I was surprised that she was so tired she couldn’t ask me any questions. I tucked her down under her duvet, gave her a kiss on the cheek and left her to dream of Princesses.

Chapter 8

I was sat cross-legged on the living room floor watching television. I was more focused on the lady in the bottom right of the screen who was signing what they were all saying. Daddy walked into the room and told me that Joshua was at the door. I jumped up and ran into the hallway. I beamed at him the moment I saw him.

“I have something to show you,” I signed. He looked at me puzzled. I took him by the hand and brought him into the kitchen. The painting I’d finished the previous night was still lying across it. Joshua looked amazed. I had painted over the original colors that I’d put on. I had blended all the hues until they were a single blur across the sky. It was impossible to tell where the sun stopped and the sky began.

Joshua reached out a hand to touch the paper. He traced his fingers across the colors and looked out the window, comparing it to what he remembered.